Memories of a Life (Life #4) Read Online Jewel E. Ann

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Life Series by Jewel E. Ann
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
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I smile at them. “I’ll meet you outside in a minute.”

They nod and shut the door behind them.

“You brought them here. And I’m grateful, truly. But you can’t expect them to say hi and leave like it’s no big deal. Would you do that to Reagan?”

Colten slides his hands in his front pockets and inches his head side to side. He’s incredibly quiet. I don’t know how to make this better. Make this, whatever this is, go away. There’s no roadmap for this.

“Do you want to pick me up tomorrow, or should I meet you at the park?”

“I’ll pick you up at ten.” He stares at the floor between us.

“Sounds good.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“Good night,” I say, opening the door barely an inch before he steps behind me.

His hands rest on my shoulders, and his lips press to the top of my head, staying there for several long seconds. I draw in a shaky breath and blink back my tears. I just want to be in his arms. I want to be me before all of this. I want to have him chase me up the stairs and jump on the bed as I try to get away from him, giggling and taunting him before he captures me.

Before we lose our clothes.

Before he loses himself inside of me, and I lose myself so completely to him.

“Good night,” he whispers before taking a step away.

The loss of his touch feels like an unwelcome chill.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

I’ve stopped trying to hold it together. Josie’s going back to Des Moines. My heart is nothing more than pea gravel on a playground, getting trampled without a second thought.

Before my fist makes contact with Josie’s door, Isaac opens it. Josie smiles at me for a brief second, then she frowns. “Don’t say anything about my hat. Izzy let me sit at her vanity to do my hair. I don’t have a seat. So … it’s a mess.”

“You look pretty,” I say.

Her gaze shoots to mine. I offer a tiny smile that feels forced because I don’t know if references to our past matter anymore.

“Thanks,” she says softly.

“See you after a bit,” Isaac says.

She doesn’t wait for me. Not my help. Not even for me to offer her help. It’s hard to see her fight for independence when I know she’s feeling so helpless. I don’t know where I fit with her right now. She’s leaving Chicago, so that feels like a strong sign that I don’t fit anywhere in her life at the moment.

“How’s her team doing?” Josie asks on the way to Reagan’s game. She asks a lot of questions that have nothing to do with us. Anything to fill the void, I suppose. That painful silence.

“We can go over the gravel or take the long way on the sidewalk. I can carry you,” I say when she steps out of the car.

“I’ll take the sidewalk. You can take the gravel. I don’t want you to miss any of her game.”

“We have time.” I lock the car, and we take the long way to her field.

“Hey.”

I glance up. “Hey,” I reply to Layla.

“I was going to check in on you, but I didn’t want to pry.” Her gaze ping-pongs between Josie and me.

I’m a dick. I should have called her or messaged her. My brain has been spinning for the last two days. How do I explain Josie coming back from the dead? “I should have messaged you. Sorry.” I nod toward Josie. “Layla, this is Josie. Josie this is Layla. Her daughter Nora and Reagan are friends.”

Layla’s eyes narrow just a fraction, maybe to see the ghost I’m introducing to her.

“Nice to meet you, Layla.” Josie stabilizes herself and shakes Layla’s hand. “My apologies for interrupting your date the other night. I feel bad.”

Date.

It wasn’t a date. I told her that.

Layla slowly shakes her head. “It’s … uh … don’t apologize. I got a ride home. It’s … fine.”

She doesn’t correct Josie and say that it wasn’t a date. Was I stupid? Naive? Was it a date?

“Well, you two can chat more without me, but I’d better keep moving since it will take me a bit to get to the right field.” Josie smiles at Layla but doesn’t give me so much as a quick glance.

“Nice … meeting you.” Confusion masks Layla’s face while Josie hobbles down the sidewalk.

“I’m really sorry,” I say again. “She just …”

Layla tucks her hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts, head cocked to the side.

“She went missing. We thought she was dead. So the other night …”

Layla’s eyebrows crawl up her forehead. “Oh my god …”

I nod while she shakes her head. “That … I mean … you must have thought you were seeing a ghost.”

“Something like that.”

“I’m happy for you. I hope she’s going to be okay.” Layla glances in Josie’s direction, as do I.


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